


The Embassy

by Cathrinerose



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Cut Scene, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cathrinerose/pseuds/Cathrinerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Bard of Dale meets with the Embassy of the King under the Mountain</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Embassy

**Author's Note:**

> A scene from an AU I'm writing that got cut from the fic, but contains some Bard head-canon that I wanted to put out there.

Bard sat in his tent, and sighed. He had always known the family legend, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality. He knew he was under obligation to Thranduil and he had no idea when and how the King would call in his debt.

He was just a guardsman! The men kept coming to him with questions he had no idea how to answer. Food and shelter, organising patrols and co-ordinating with the elves, defending his men to Thranduil when they fought with the elves and pacifying them when the Elves were at fault. He had never been in charge of more than a patrol before the night the dragon had attacked, and now he found himself leading the men of Lake-town and dreaming of re-founding Dale. There were times when he felt like he had dived into the Lake and the water was pressing on his shoulders and his lungs were burning.

There was a cry from the guards and he grabbed his sword and bow. His eyes widened. A ladder had been thrown over the wall at the entrance to the Mountain and some of the dwarves were making their way along the narrow ledge bearing a white flag.

“What should we do?” asked one of the men on watch.

“Treat them as you would any honoured delegation that came to Lake-town, and bring them to my tent.” Bard said after a moment. “You two,” he pointed at two men in the crowd. “Gather enough chairs for them.” He turned and deliberately did not hurry returning to his tent. He splashed his face with some water and then turned to see the men arriving with the chairs. He helped set them out and then sat down and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Balin, son of Fundin and the Embassy of the King Under the Mountain,” the guard announced. He was a beardless lad and his youthful pride at the task was painfully evident in his voice and bearing. Bard gestured for them to take their seats, and sat down himself. He made himself take five breaths before he spoke.

“When last I spoke with King Thorin, he had little desire to treat with me. Why are you here now?” he asked, pleased that his voice did not waver.

“Thorin was deep in dragon-sickness when you came to him. He has now come to himself and he has sent us with tokens to renew the ancient friendship between Dale and the Mountain.” Balin said.

“How did this happen and where is Thorin now?”

“The immanent failure of his courtship. As for the other... he is making amends to his beloved.”

Bard nodded and accepted the casket that one of the younger Dwarves handed him. As the older Dwarves spoke, he realised who they reminded him of. Merchants, extolling their wares to command the best price in negotiation. And suddenly he could breathe again, for he had often gone to market and he knew how to bargain. And the negotiations went on late into the night. And when they had finished the Dwarves bowed and one of them said, “I am glad we are to be friends now, King Bard. For when I was a merchant; I hated to exchange with one such as you, for I always took less than I wanted, though such would never give me less than the worth of my hire.” Bard felt obscurely complimented, and for the first time he felt that a humble guardsman could be a king worthy of the Line of Girion.


End file.
